Tomorrow Comes
by Dominus Umbra
Summary: A raid on a drug den goes very wrong...


**So this is just a one shot I wrote to celebrate the end of exams (yay). It didn't turn out as well as I'd hope, but what the heck, I'm posting it anyway. There's no deliberate pairings, but read into it what you like.  
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**Also, I'm looking for a beta reader, so PM me if you're interested.  
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**Now, where was I before I was so rudely interupted by my HSC...  
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"So most of them have been rounded up?" Rachel questioned the PC beside her as she marched a junkie towards the front door of the house. The house had, up until about twenty minutes ago, been an active drug den.

"Yes Sarge. They're checking the upstairs, but we got most of them."

"Good." The junkie in her grip stumbled and swore at her at the same time as the sergeant heard voices from above her.

"Mate, just calm down, yeah? Put the syringe down and let her go."

"No! Just back off, all of you!"

The sounds of a confrontation floated down from the upper floor. When they had raided the drug den, most of the 'clientele' that could run had, in all directions, but Rachel hadn't seen any of them head up to the attic room. She handed the junkie in her grip off to a PC and ran up the stairs.

"Just let her go, mate, you're only making things worse for yourself." Ben's tone was calming but with an edge of concern, and did nothing for the sergeant's nerves. She entered the attic room cautiously, wary of surprising the suspect.

The sight she was met with made her stomach drop. Ben, Nate and Roger stood in a semi-circle around a junkie of about thirty-five. The junkie had his arm around Millie's neck and a syringe pressed against her throat. Ben was trying to coax him to relinquish his grip on the scared constable, who was standing rigidly still, her eyes panicked.

"C'mon mate, you're not gunna get out of it this way, let her go."

"Leave me alone! I don't wanna… Just go away!"

"If you let my officer go, you can leave. We won't chase you." Rachel offered, not meaning a word of it. She'd noticed Nate slowly approaching the junkie from the other side, and was trying to keep the guy distracted long enough for the PC to get close enough to grab him.

"I don't believe you. You all lie; you'll follow me!"

"No, I promise. Please, just let her go."

He seemed to consider it for a moment, the muscles in his arm relaxing slightly. But then Nate shifted his weight onto a loose floorboard, which squeaked loudly, drawing the junkie's attention to him. Realising how close the PC was, the junkie panicked.

"No!" he yelled, stabbing the syringe into Millie's neck, causing her to cry out, and pressing on the plunger before pushing the constable towards the others and fleeing towards a door that led to a fire escape.

"Go after him!" Rachel ordered as she caught the PC, being careful to avoid the needle protruding from her neck. Ben and Nate took off after the junkie, drawing their asps, while Roger radioed for the paramedics.

"Sarge, get it out, get it out, please." Millie was beginning to feel the effects of the drugs, her words beginning to slur. She tried to tug at the syringe, but the sergeant caught her hand.

"No, don't touch it. It's okay; just hold still. I'm gunna pull it out now, okay?" Weston jerked the needle out of her PC's neck, then applied pressure against the wound with her fingers.

"Sarge, I'm sorry, I let him grab me…." The rest of the sentence trailed off into an unintelligible moan. She sagged against Rachel, who stumbled backward until Roger grabbed Millie's other arm and helped the sergeant lower her to the ground and roll her into the recovery position as she continued to mutter incoherently.

"It's okay, Millie, just keep your eyes open, keep talking to me, c'mon. Where the hell are the paramedics?"

"ETA three minutes, they said." Roger told her, while Millie continued to mutter nonsensical phrases.

"Don' wanna go; don' go, Sarge…You can't go…"

"I'm right here, Millie, I'm not going anywhere; just keep talking to me, okay? Rog, did you see how much there was in that syringe?"

"No, Sarge. Pretty sure it was heroin, though."

"Damn. Okay, radio Inspector Gold, tell her what happened, then go and find Smithy, ask him to get the vans moved so the ambulance can get in. Then wait outside so you can show the paramedics where we are."

The constable nodded and left, reaching for his radio. Rachel realised that Mille had been getting more and more incoherent, before she gradually stopped talking altogether.

"No, no, no, no, Millie! Open your eyes, c'mon, Millie, don't do this to me; wake up! C'mon Millie…" Rachel continue to talk to the semi-unconscious constable – keeping two fingers on her wrist to monitor her pulse, which had slowed dramatically – until Roger returned, leading two paramedics and Smithy. "She was talking until about a minute ago, then she just stopped."

"Okay. What's her name, please?" The older paramedic asked as she and her colleague knelt down beside the PC and began checking her breathing and pulse.

"Millie Brown." Smithy supplied, steadying Rachel as she stood and moved out of the medics' way. "The inspector and superintendant are both at a meeting at the Yard all day. I think the DCI was gunna call them anyway, though."

"Uh-huh…" Rachel wasn't really paying attention, she was more focused on the paramedics and their charge.

One of the paramedics looked up at the two sergeants. "Do you know how much she was injected with? Because the naloxone isn't having any effect."

Rachel shook her head."We're not sure. We're pretty sure it was heroin, though."

"She needs to get to St. Hugh's."

Rachel nodded. "Okay." She looked at Smithy. "One of us should probably go with her."

"You go." He offered. "I'll stay here, finish mopping up the rest of the addicts."

"Thanks Smithy."

The other sergeant nodded, then moved to help the paramedics as they carried the unconscious constable from the room.

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"Sarge?" Rachel had been talking softly to the doctor when that one croaked word made her turn.

"Millie. How're you feeling?" The sergeant moved to stand beside the bed while the doctor checked his patient's vitals.

"Urgh, groggy. What happened? I remember searching the upstairs with Ben, then being grabbed by that guy, then…not much." Her voice was croaky, and her skin was pale.

"You were injected with heroin. The doctors say you're fine, but they want to keep your overnight just in case. We arrested the junkie."

Millie started to nod, but stopped when it made her head throb.

"The inspector also told me that she expects you to take at least tomorrow off. And that it's non-negotiable." Rachel added, overriding Millie's weak protests.

Millie sank back onto the pillows in a gesture of surrender, and the doctor reminded Rachel that his patient needed to rest. The sergeant nodded, but before she could leave, the woman on the bed grabbed her arm gently.

"Sarge…Rachel, thanks for what you did. I remember you staying with me, so…yeah. Thanks."

The sergeant smiled at her. "Anytime."

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"You know, next time I say I wish there was some way out of a meeting, you can just _pretend_ there's an emergency; it doesn't have to be the real thing." Gina told Smithy as the stood by the window of Millie's room, watching Rachel talk softly with the constable. Smithy gave her a half grin in return, sharing his inspector's relief that Millie was okay.


End file.
